


Never in Fact Homeless

by velvet_impala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby, Drabble, First Kiss, M/M, Sibling Incest, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform, a tiny thing written for writers group, deans pov, i dunno what im doing, send help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 03:26:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19759639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvet_impala/pseuds/velvet_impala
Summary: When people used to ask him what it was like to be homeless, he’d laugh. Homeless? No. Never. Sure, he never had a mailing address, but he had a home.





	Never in Fact Homeless

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything, don't come for me. Also this is my first SPN piece so please be easy.

The thing about it is, Dean never understood why people pitied him growing up. Every pitying look he ever received from teachers or neighbors or what little friends he did have, he shrugged off. Sure mom was gone which sucked in ways he couldn’t put into words, and sure, dad was a tyrant, but Dean liked his life. He got to travel around. He had hunting. He had Sam. And they got to do it all in a pretty kickass car.  
  
When people used to ask him what it was like to be homeless, he’d laugh. Homeless? No. Never. Sure, he never had a mailing address, but he had a home. Home was dad’s rare laugh, and Sam’s smile, and telling stories to each other curled up in the back seat on some unknown interstate at three in the morning, while riding high on the waves of another successful hunt. Home was bloody hands and rock salt and the smell of gas in the air at a truck stop on a Tuesday in Wyoming, burgers and fries and grape slushie mustaches in the summer heat.  
  
It was giving Sam his first Fourth of July fireworks in in ‘96 and the thrill of knowing dad would kill them if he knew Dean had spent his food money on tomcats and firecrackers and how he wouldn’t give a damn, would take Dad’s yelling a hundred thousand times for thirty more seconds of Sam’s wide eyed fascination. It was kissing Sam for the first time and actually thinking to himself that maybe this is what salvation really feels like, that being saved meant being pliant in his brothers hands.  
  
Home was the amulet he’d worn around his neck for too many years and a 67 impala door slamming and knowing that there’s always a bed with his name on it at Bobby’s in Sioux Falls. They can look at him with pity for the rest of his life, Dean doesn’t care. As long as he has Sam and Baby and maybe a good bottle of Jack, he’s _good_.


End file.
